Chapter Four

Dana

I stare at him I shock, wondering if my ears are playing tricks on me. Did my boss just introduce me to his father as his fiancée?

Before I can say anything, the stern-faced, handsome man with Damon's piercing blue eyes is holding out his hand to me, his lips tilting in the barest hint of a smile.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Smith."

"Pleasure is mine, Mr. Ford," I reply promptly, slipping my palm into his outstretched hand. I muster a polite smile despite the anger brewing in the pit of my stomach. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

An emotion flits in Mr. Ford's eyes . Approval? I can't tell because he's returned his attention to Damon, who still hasn't let go of my hand.

"Pity I must head out now. I have a meeting with the board in fifteen minutes," he says, glancing at his surprisingly worn-out leather watch. "I'd love to get to know the lovely lady who's managed to capture my son's attention. Your mom would be delighted to meet her too when she gets back from her vacation, so we'll get together this weekend."

Only two days away? That feels so... soon. Damon's hand tightens unconsciously around mine, the only indication of whatever he's feeling at that moment. "Dad, we can't…."

"I hope to see you then," Mr. Ford says with a meaningful glance at Damon. And with one last nod in my direction, he heads towards the front door.

I wait for the door to close behind him before snatching my hand from Damon's grip. I swirl around to face him, raising my chin to glare at him.

"What was that about?"

"What?" he asks, his expression unchanging.

"Don't play dumb with me, sir! I think I deserve some explanation as to why I'm in your home and how I became your fiancée?"

"Listen to me, kitty…."

"No, you listen to me!" I snap, throwing my hands up in frustration. "Don't call me kitty and don't patronize me! You treat me like I'm some nitwit without half a brain that'd jump to do any of your bidding. I know I'm desperate for this job, but…"

The rest of the words suddenly fly out of my head as his mouth descends on mine, cutting short my rant. I freeze, shocked to the bone. Then, slowly, I start to move my mouth in sync with his, cajoled by the persistent, yet gentle pressure of his lips. His arm, strong and possessive, circles my waist, pulling me closer to his chest as he deepens the kiss. He nibbles at my lower lip, eliciting a soft gasp from me. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, slowly gliding it over mine in slow, sensual strokes.

A needy moan escapes my lips and the sound is like a bucket full of ice dumped on my head, jarring me back to reality. It suddenly dawns on me that Damon Ford is kissing me.

I'm kissing my friggin' boss!

I spring away from him like a startled deer, swaying lightly on my feet. For a moment, I stare blankly at him, breathing hard. Amidst other indecipherable emotions, I feel disoriented and angry – angry at him for barging into my life and upturning it in just twenty-four hours. Most of all, I'm angry at myself for being at his mercy… For actually enjoying that kiss moments ago... For wanting more.

"Dana, I…" He trails off, running a hand through his hair with a weary sigh. This time, frustration flares in his usually impassive eyes. "I'm sorry," he finally says. "I shouldn't have…"

"Sorry?" I cut in with a disbelieving scoff. "You're sorry? My god, You're unbelievable and I'm out of here!"

Without waiting for a response, I turn around and run blindly out of the house, biting down hard on my lips to keep my tears from falling.

I don't know if I'm more pained about the fact that he stole my first kiss or the fact that he apologized after.

How could he? I've never felt so embarrassed.

It took me a while to get to the bus station and I was badly out of breath by the time I settled in my seat. I close my eyes with a tired sigh, willing the events of the day away from my mind. It seemed like an eternity before the bus actually pulled up at my bus stop even though the ride was under an hour.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally get to my apartment door. All I need now is my bed and a good cry, and I'll be as good as new tomorrow morning.

I hear a familiar voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "So this is where you ran off to."

I turn around to see Jimmy leering down at me with a satisfied grin on his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask. I'm worried he can hear my heart pounding against my ribs.

"An old friend can't stop by to talk? I missed you."

I almost laugh. I know exactly how much he's missed me. I have the hundreds of texts and voicemails to prove it. "We're not friends, Jimmy. Get out of here."

He takes a step forward. "Why are you being so cold, Dana? Didn't you miss me too?" He leans closer, sniffing along my neckline. "Are you… Did you sleep with some man? You've got men's cologne all over you."

"Get off me!" I scream, trying to push him away, but he grabs me. My heart starts to beat wildly when his grip tightens painfully on my wrist as I start to struggle harder.

"Who's the bastard?!" he snarls.

"Let me go!"

"Let her go."

The words are delivered in a cold command, followed by a punch to the gut that has James doubling over and howling in pain.

I look up to see Damon standing over James with his hands in tight fists by his sides. He looks almost unrecognizable at that moment – no hint of that relaxed playfulness that I've come to associate with him in the past few days. Right now, he looks like a beast about to pounce. A beautiful, ferocious beast.

James doesn't stand a chance, and from the hesitant fear creeping into his dark, soulless eyes, he knows it. Damon tries to hit him again, but I subconsciously grab his arm to stop him.

"Please…" I say, shaking my head at him.

"Get the fuck out of here," he says quietly, pinning James with a death glare.

My ex straightens, wincing slightly in pain. He sends a glare my way before scurrying away the way he came. I close my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as I sag against Damon's body.

"Are you okay?"

I nod slightly, shocked at the genuine concern in his endless blue eyes. "Yes, thank you."

"What the hell was that about?" he asks, gesturing in the direction James went.

"Just a guy I used to know," I answer, still as rattled as I was moments ago.

"Should we call the cops? That bastard seems mentally unstable."

"No… no," I reply, shaking my head. "I've already tried going to them. All they've ever done is make things worse. Besides, I'm okay."

"You're sure you're alright?" he asks again, searching my face.

A shiver wracks my body as the scene flashes again in my head. Damon must have noticed, because he wraps his arms around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. I instantly feel safe. Reassured. I close my eyes and let his scent comfort me.

After a few seconds, I pull away gently, and he instantly lets me go. An awkward moment passes between us where he seems unusually unsure of himself.

"Thank you," I mutter, turning away from him to open my door. "Do you want to come in?"

I bite down hard on my lower lip, hoping desperately that he doesn't decline. I don't want him to go just yet .

"Sure," he replies quietly.

I press my lips together to stifle the celebratory glee that rises in my throat.

"Sorry, the place is a mess," I say, once inside, mentally berating myself for carelessly leaving things around as I quickly snatch an upturned shirt from the arm of my couch. Ever since my roommate moved out, I've returned to my haphazard ways. By the time I drag myself home in the early hours of the morning, I can barely clean myself up before falling into bed, much less worry about laundry. "I'm not at home much, so…" I let my voice trail off as an embarrassed blush crawls up my cheeks.

"I like your place. It's cozy."

I glance up at him in surprise, even more shocked when I see his mouth curling into a genuinely fascinated smile as he glances around. He runs his fingers over the crocheted afghan hanging over the back of my secondhand couch.

"Coffee?" I ask, unsure of what to do with myself.

He takes a hesitant step closer and my heart starts to beat wildly in my chest. My living room suddenly feels too small as a strange heat crawls up my entire body.

What if he kisses me again?

"I'm sorry, Dana, for the way I acted earlier," he finally says, his tone contrite. He clears his throat lightly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He seems like a man who doesn't apologize often. "I shouldn't have sprung all that on you."

"No, you shouldn't have," I reply, arching my brows at him. "So, why did you?"

"You see, the drug scandal with Billy Coleman badly affected the brand's reputation, causing investors to pull out on affiliated projects. Now, my father can help put things back on track, and as much as I hate to ask for his assistance, he's my last resort. He has agreed to help me on the condition that I get married within the next month."

"What?"

"Ridiculous, I know. Now, I have a plan, and that's where you come in. You pretend to be my fiancée from New York and convince my dad that what we share is genuine love. When you're done, I cut you a very handsome check and send you on your merry way. We both get what we want, and after the dust has settled, things go back to the way they were."

He makes it all seem so simple, yet there's no denying the complexity of such a treacherous endeavor. Still, I find my ears perking up at the mention of a handsome check. Maybe I can finally get the hell out of this place.

But it's a risk. A big, big risk.

"Why didn't you tell me all of these before introducing me to your dad?" I can hear the panic in my voice, but I don't care at this point. Everything could go wrong!

"I didn't have much time to explain to you," he replies calmly. "In the heat of the moment, I kind of fibbed that I had a fiancée back in New York. I thought that would get him to back down, but he demanded to meet her the very next day or the deal was off the table. I didn't have much time to explain myself; I desperately needed a fiancée and you made it clear you needed a job. It was a win-win."

I close my eyes, letting out a deep, resigned sigh. "I'll help you."

"Really?"

"I don't have much of a choice at this point. Besides, I work at The Eclipse, and I have a responsibility to do whatever I can to help. I don't want a bunch of good people to lose their jobs because of one guy's mistake."

An indecipherable emotion crosses his eyes at that moment, and then his expression softens. "Thank you, Dana."

I nod, holding his gaze for a split second. "But we have to do this on my terms."

"Your terms?"

"Yes. I'm not doing something cheesy like moving into your house, and I'm not going to be your sugar baby. This is an acting gig, nothing more. Our fake relationship will remain a secret, and I'll continue to work my shifts at The Eclipse."

"Is that all, ma'am?" he asks, his tone laced with amusement.

"And no more surprise kisses!"

"I promise," he replies, his lips curling in a mischievous smirk. "Not unless you ask for it."

My heart skips at the thought of a next time and what it'd feel like to have his lips on mine again. I push the thought away and roll my eyes at him.

"Oh, please," I mutter.

Damon reaches into his breast pocket to take out a simple yet gorgeously elegant ring with a gem that looks suspiciously like a diamond.

"Here, you should have this," he says, holding it out to me.

I gape at the ring in shock and then back at his face. "Is that a real diamond ring?"

"Yes."

"My God, I-I can't possibly take that from you; it's not even a real engagement."

"What's a bride without a ring?" he asks, taking my left hand in his. "We might as well make it as real as possible."

Gently, he slips the ring on my fourth finger, and I'm surprised to see it fit perfectly.

"Now, there's a bride to be," he says, smiling into my eyes. " My bride ."